Foes of Memory
by Tavaril Lasgalen
Summary: Years after the woodlanders defeated Tsarmina and built Redwall, an even darker force is rising. What they want, no one knows, but their violence is known to all. And rebellious young woodlanders aid them. What's worse? One of Redwall's own is a murderer.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note: **According to several of my friends what I thought was R is really just a strong PG-13. :)_

_**Disclaimer: **__All thing Redwall being to BJ. I just play with his world and characters. ;)_

**Prologue**

_Something's wrong, shut the light,__  
__Heavy thoughts tonight__  
__and they aren't of snow white.__  
__Dreams of war, dreams of liars,__  
__Dreams of dragon's fire__  
__and of things that will bite._

_Sleep with one eye open,__  
__Gripping your pillow tight__  
__Exit light__  
__Enter night..._

_-__Metallica_

The night was gloomy and oppressing. Heavy rain fell in sheets from black clouds over a grove of trees. Thunder boomed loudly and blue chain lightning flashed across the heavens. Fat drops of water ran off the leaves and splattered when they hit the muddied earth. The scent of the rain and far off scent of burning wood filled the air. The little stream that ran through the grove was swelled to twice its normal size and growing. Its brown waters rushed through the trees noisily, covering ferns and undergrowth with its ever-growing hungry waters.

A short red squirrel watched the 'stream' with cold eyes. The squirrel wore a soaked green and brown tunic and a recurve bow was strapped to his back. His arrows were kept dry in their quiver by the cloth he had fashioned into a bag and his bowstring was concealed from the element by the leather pouch it rested in at his belt. Two dagger hilts protruded from his boots. His green eyes flashed and his harsh features were angered. He curled his lip in contempt at the natural force that was uprooting beloved plants. He stroked the limb of the poplar he sat in with frustration. _If only we could stop that water's destruction..._

He hated this sense of being able to do nothing, this helplessness. Punching his paw furiously into the trunk of the poplar, he shut his eyes and pressed his lips into a thin white line. Without another glance at the flooded water, he swung from the branch above his head into the oak beside it, heading towards his home.

The slick wood made it harder for him to keep a grip, but he managed. The squirrel fixed his hard eyes on the sheltered flet that was his home.

And was taken aback to see two tall, cloaked figures sitting there.

He touched the dagger hilts with a paw, ensuring that he would be able to draw them quickly, before swinging into his flet. The squirrel narrowed his eyes at the two who sat cheekily at the table he had crafted lovingly for his wife.

"Who are you?" His voice was deep and demanding.

The cloaked beasts shared a glance before one stood gracefully, towering over the squirrel. A soft, cultured feminine voice emitted from the shadows over its face. "Is thy name Birch Swifteye?"

Birch clenched his jaws and glared up at her. "What my name is doesn't matter. Who are _you_ and why are you in my home?"

She swished her tail and Birch noticed how much like a squirrel's it was. "We are those who art named the Shadowslayers." She paused and threw back her hood to reveal a startlingly beautiful face with hazel eyes and sleek midnight brown fur. The face belonged to a pine marten. Her voice took on a warning tone. "It would be wise to tell us your name."

The squirrel swallowed. Pine martens were cruel vermin who ate the flesh of their victims and were even better climbers than squirrels. He pulled himself up to his full height and glowered dangerously at the vermin. "And what if my name is Birch? What of it? Now where is my family?"

A silvery laugh came from her as an amused twinkle entered her eyes. Her companion sat taciturn and still as ever. "Well, Sir Birch, I feel the need to warn thee that thou might not be pleased with them."

"Where. Are. They!" The squirrel ground out, anger and worry thrumming through his veins.

The pine marten laid a paw and his shoulder and smiled down at him. "I wouldst suggest thou look down."

Against his own will, Birch looked over the edge of his flet. What he saw unleashed an agonized cry.

Bloody strips of fur littered the ground and the heads of his wife and sons were gnawed on, but he could still see their terrified and pain-filled expressions. A lithe wildcat, a fox, and three ferrets patrolled the base of the tree, weapons gleaming in the flashes of lightning. The wildcat glance up at him, emerald eyes shining with glee. She let loose a harsh laugh at his expression and called up mockingly. "Oh, dear, Master Swifteye. Upset, are we? Well, this is what happens when you leave your family alone. Bad for you. Marvelously entertaining for us."

Rage made him shake and he roared, dashing to leap down and teach the wildcat a lesson. The last thing he felt was a blinding pain in his head before the world dissolved into colored specks lightening into a white light.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One~**

_You... walked away, heard them say__  
__"Poisoned hearts will never change, walk away again."_

_All the cracks will lead right to me,__  
__And all the cracks will crawl right through me..._

_...and I fell apart_

_-__AFI_

Within the vast green expanses of Mossflower Woods lay the famed Redwall Abbey. It was a magnificent building with red stone, lovely stained crystal windows, gardens, a pond, orchards, and thick, protective walls. The soaring roofs stood high above the young trees of Mossflower. The Abbey lawns were huge, with plenty of room for races and contests for celebrations. The young woodlanders loved to play outside, climbing the trees, swimming in the pond, inventing games of their own. On most days, that is. For today, the sky was an ominous dark gray and thunder rumbled, threatening rain.

The Dibbuns made the best of their situation and darted about the level of the bed chambers, playing hide-and-go-seek. An imperious mouse squeaked at his minions, an assorted group of hedgehogs, moles, squirrels, voles, otters, and mice. "I counta to...," he pursed his lips comically, considering, "eleventy-five! Yous go hide now, quicky!"

The gang dispersed quickly as he covered his eyes with his paws and began counting. "One, free, six, eight, 'leven..."

One ottermaid peeked back at him from a corner, a serious expression on her face. "No peekin'! Or I stuffa ya in a soup!"

She dashed off down the corridor solemnly as the mousebabe continued. "Fifee, seven'en, niny 'undred..."

The ottermaid, Shell, carefully inspected the various crannies in the wall and discarded each one as a hiding place, biting her lip in thought. She thumped her rudder in frustration on the floor. "No, no. None o' dese'll work. Uuugh."

Running one paw along the wall, Shell's sharp eyes scanned the area about her for a suitable hiding place. There were the bed chambers...But there were already several of her friends there. There was a storage closet which no one seemed to be using, but Shell hated being in the dark. There was...the stairs? No, those were much too open.

"'Leventy-five! Ready o' not, 'ere I come!"

Hastily, Shell flew towards the closet and threw open the door, diving into the darkness of it. She closed the door partway, letting a sliver of light into the small space. Goosebumps ran up and down her arms and the ottermaid shivered. _I hate the dark..._ She whined to herself inwardly.

Footsteps padded down the hall way, pausing by her hiding place. Shell held her breath, waiting for the mousebabe to pass by. He did as a give-away giggle emitted from the dormitory. Letting it out slowly, Shell shifted to get into a more comfortable position. Her arm rubbed against something soft. Her breath hitched and the ottermaid turned her head to see what the soft object was.

What she saw made her eyes widen in horror and she froze, lip trembling.

The faint light from the doorway fell upon the face of Meral, the mouse herbalist. But Meral's face was covered in gaping wounds and her soft golden fur was stained red with blood. Her lovely green eyes stared unseeingly in disbelief at the doorway. Jagged cuts covered her body and the green robe she wore was torn. One of her ears and her tail her cut off and lying on the floor.

Shell's breath came faster and faster as her heartbeat quickened. Her small body shook with terror and her teeth chattered uncontrollably. Unconsciously she began to scream. And scream. And scream.

With growing hysteria and panic, Shell fled the cabinet, still screaming shrilly and ran headlong down the corridor.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Meanwhile, to the north of Mossflower in the foothills of a small mountain range, a young squirrel swung from tree to tree so quickly and quietly, it was difficult to say where she was. Her blue eyes were hard and cold, her reddish-dark brown ears twitching at the sound of pursuit. As she leaped from an aspen to an oak, the squirrel curled her lip in disgust, trying to hid the very real hurt in her eyes from even herself. Her heart ached, but it was not something she was not used to.

"Just wait! You'll pay, traitor!"

"Huh, who ever heard of a squirrel taking sides with vermin before?"

"You disgrace us!"

She released a shuddering breath and swung herself about a branch several times to gain momentum before shooting herself into the air, flipping as she did so before landing on one of the uppermost boughs. The squirrel sniffed at the welts forming on her arms and body from being hit by stinging boughs as she passed them, then cocked her head, listening to her pursuers take another path.

"Well done, Pinedance."

Pinedance struggled not to show her surprise at the sibilant voice that came from behind her. Turning, she saw a tall elegant pine marten sitting on a sturdy branch. Her contempt for the creature flashed across her face and lit her eyes. The pine marten held up a regal paw to forestall any comments on the squirrel's part. "You were right to assist me in my escape from those savage squirrels. I cannot say I was not impressed by your speed and agility. You would be a welcome addition to my army. What say you?"

"I would rather die than join you, vermin," she spat out.

"The name is Iridescence, not vermin. And if you so feel this way, why help me?" Iridescence raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow at Pinedance.

The question struck Pinedance like a slap in the face. Why had she helped the marten? Her brow furrowed as she thought, searching for an answer. "I helped you because I think that no beast, no matter if they're vermin or woodlander, deserves to be burned alive. No matter what horrendous actions one might have committed, who knows if they did them of their own free will or were forced into doing it? Who knows if one might have a breaking heart and be terribly sorry for what they've done, but no one listens? That's why I helped you, because I think there is a chance you might be sorry for killing those babies." Her eyes grew very cold and fierce and she drew her backhanded dagger in one swift move and laid it against Iridescence's neck, drawing blood. "But if you enjoyed it..."

Iridescence laughed, a beautiful, melodious sound. "Am I supposed to be threatened, dear? Because I am far from it."

Narrowing her eyes, Pinedance let the blade cut into Iridescence's neck enough to start a steady trickle of blood. Iridescence snapped her fingers and three pine martens let themselves be seen in the surrounding greenery, showing their glittering blades casually. Pinedance mentally cursed herself for not having noticed them, but kept her weapon against Iridescence's neck, stating in a chilling whisper that was carried by the wind to the ears of the "new" arrivals, "If you intend to do me harm, this marten will die before the blades even touch my fur."

They did not react at all. One simply yawned and twitched his nose lazily. The squirrel frowned inwardly. Why were they so unconcerned? One would think they would...

An annoying short pain flashed in the back of her neck before fading.

_Oh, bugger. They have poison darts,_ Pinedance said to herself in an exasperated train of thought before the world suddenly dimmed and she felt herself staggering on the branch.


End file.
